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Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Devil's Game: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

175 Kabanata

Chapter 1 - Selling of Ayra Russo

The view from the high-rise office should have been breathtaking. The sprawling city bathed in the golden glow of sunset, endless skyscrapers reaching for the heavens and a russet color smeared across the sky. But all Ayra Russo could feel was the tightening grip of dread in her chest, threatening to suffocate her. The pristine glass windows felt like a cage, trapping her in a decision she didn’t fully understand.Despite the warm air spilling from the conditioning unit, the room was cold - far too cold.Her father sat across the table, his hands trembling slightly as he pushed a crisp sheet of paper toward her. His voice wavered as he spoke. “It... is for the best, Ayra. You’ll be taken care of. This... this is your chance at a better life.”Ayra felt tears sting at the corners of her eyes and clutched the hem of her coat tightly.She scanned her father's face for any shred of remorse - any sign that he regretted what he was doing - but his face was stoic and stern, his eyes glinting

Chapter 2 - Testing Boundaries

The days after blurred together into one long stretch of misery. Ayra caught no sight of either her sister or her father during the next three days, secluded as she was in her corner of their mansion. The absence of Lisbeth she could deal with - her elder sister was not the most likable of people - but the fact that her father had all but abandoned her twisted her insides in hate and loathing.Occasionally her thoughts turned to Lucian and her impending... Wedding, as it were. She also couldn’t stop replaying the cold certainty in his voice, the way he had claimed her without a second thought, as if her life was nothing more than another business deal to him. It terrified her more than she cared to admit, and while she didn't hold much of an idealized view of her marriage, she did not want it to be... This. She'd spent hours upon hours poring over the contract, studying every word, every clause futilely, just because she refused to sit on her ass and cry like a little girl. The le

Chapter 3 - Lucian's Isa

The sleek black car hummed quietly as it sped along the highway, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across Ayra’s face. She sat stiffly in the backseat, her arms crossed tightly, eyes staring blankly out the window. Her father sat beside her, his face set in a stern, unreadable expression.For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was suffocating, thick with unspoken anger and confusion. “I don’t understand why you did this,” her father finally broke the silence, his voice low and filled with disappointment. “Do you have any idea what you’ve risked? What you’ve put at stake?”Ayra didn’t respond at first. She continued staring out of the window, her heart pounding as she tried to contain her emotions. She clenched her fists in her lap, her knuckles turning white as a mix of shame and frustration churned in her gut. Getting caught was all part of her plan, yes, but confronting her father was still decidedly uncomfortable. She thought it would be Lisbeth who

Chapter 4 - Ayra's Despair

The cold hit Ayra hard as she was dragged back into the mansion, but it was nothing compared to the chill in her chest.Her father’s iron grip on her arm, his men trailing like shadows, and the oppressive silence, crushed her.She didn’t cry. Didn’t scream. She wanted them to believe she'd spent all her fight in her escape attempt. Now she was a shell of the determination she once carried. The mansion loomed in the dark like a silent judge. Its halls, so familiar, felt foreign and sterile.She barely registered her father’s clipped, furious whispers to the guards. All she could feel was the weight pressing down on her. Oh, she knew the escape attempt would have failed - she had planned for it to fail, after all, as her father was simply too cunning a fox that a singular attempt would see her free - but perhaps deep down inside her, she had wished he would have let her go. Just... turned a blind eye. The days blurred into a suffocating haze of monotony. Ayra’s room was no longer her

Chapter 5 - Pushing Buttons

Lisbeth leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed in that haughty way Ayra had come to despise.She looked immaculate, of course, her dress tailored to perfection, every strand of hair in its rightful place.Ayra, in her hastily thrown on clothes and with an aura of depression she couldn’t shake, felt a fresh wave of resentment.Lisbeth had always been good at making her feel small without even trying - or maybe she was trying, all the time.Anyway, the point stood; Ayra did not like Lisbeth one bit.“I see captivity hasn’t done much for your style, little sis,” Lisbeth began, her tone dripping with mock sympathy."Honestly, I thought you’d at least attempt to look presentable. But I suppose it’s hard to care when you're only so so.”Ayra clenched her fists, the nails biting into her palms. Don’t react, she chanted within her mind. Don’t give her anything. She’s waiting for you to snap. As she always did. But Lisbeth wasn’t one to settle for silence. She pushed off the doorframe

Chapter 6 - Aunt Eleanor

Ayra’s heart sank. “You... what?”“Oh, come on,” Lisbeth rolled her eyes. “It’s not that shocking. And I simply must tell you, Lucian was a dream to work with. A man like that? He saw the opportunity right away. All I had to do was paint you as someone who could be… easily shaped.”"Lisbeth, I..." Ayra struggled to find words. "Do you truly hate me so much?"“Of course,” Lisbeth said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “And by the way, someone had to make the hard decisions around here, and we all know you weren’t going to. Honestly, you should be thanking me. If it weren’t for my little nudges, you’d still be floundering around with absolutely no direction in life.”“Direction?” Ayra spat. “You mean being sold off like some business asset? That’s your idea of a direction?”Lisbeth waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. No one sold you off. Don't make it sound so horrible.It’s securing the family’s future. And let’s face it—you were always the weak link.

Chapter 7 - Contact as Promised

“Five minutes,” Eleanor said with a faint sigh, shaking her head as she glanced at the closed door. “Lisbeth hasn’t changed, has she? Always in control, always the gatekeeper.”Ayra snorted, bitterness lacing her voice. “Control seems to be her motto, isn’t it?”Eleanor gave her a small, wry smile and walked toward the bed where Ayra sat. She perched lightly on the edge, smoothing out her skirt. Her perfume was subtle, a blend of lavender and cedarwood that reminded Ayra of gentler times. Times when her mother was still alive. “You look pale, darling,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “Lisbeth’s words have a way of doing that to people, don’t they?”Ayra let out a bitter laugh, sitting back down on the edge of her bed. “It’s nothing I’m not used to.” Unstated was the fact that it still stung, and her visit had both demoralised Ayra and left her emotionally vulnerable. Eleanor sighed. The bed dipped slightly under her weight, and she reached out to brush a stray strand of hair

Chapter 8 - A Way Out

The door closed with a dull thud, and the room felt suffocatingly silent once more. Ayra sat still on the edge of the bed, her hands resting limply in her lap. Her aunt's words replayed in her mind, looping endlessly like a haunting melody. Perhaps her aunt's offer should have sparked something in her - a flicker of hope, a glimmer of possibility. But instead, it only left her feeling heavier, like another impossible choice had been laid at her feet. She didn't feel brave. She didn't feel clever. Because she knew that compared to either Lisbeth or their father, she fell far short. The thought of escape was a tantalizing fantasy, but every time she tried to imagine it, the walls of her reality closed tighter. Even if Eleanor could provide a way out, Ayra doubted her own ability to take it. She was constantly watched, her every move scrutinized by Lucians guards or her fathers spies. There was no privacy, no freedom, not even a single moment to breathe without feeling the weight o

Chapter 9 - Scheming to Flee

The dinner table was quiet. Her father hadn’t joined her tonight, an absence she welcomed with relief. Recently he had insisted on having at least one meal at the dining room and Ayra has designated that time to dinner. Usually, it was a silent and uncomfortable affair but tonight both he and Lisbeth were blessedly absent. Lucian’s men, stationed in the shadows of the room, observed her silently as she picked at her meal. Her appetite was gone, the tension in her chest rendering the savory dishes bland and lifeless.Her hand brushed against the paper hidden in her pocket. She had carried it all day, its weight more mental than physical. She knew she needed help, but was reluctant to accept it. The serving maid entered quietly - a different girl from the one that afternoon - her presence going disregarded by anyone else. Ayra glanced up and caught her eye. The woman hardly reacted and placed a fresh plate on the table, a thin layer of steam curling from the baked dessert in its c

Chapter 10 - A Wedding for Ayra Russo

The hours slipped by like sand through her fingers. Her isolation was suffocating as always, yet she clung to the small lifeline Eleanor had given her. Her aunt’s messages arrived sporadically, their delivery concealed in the meticulous work of the maid. A folded napkin, a hollowed-out bread roll, a ribbon tied too tightly around a gift - her messages came in the details, as it were, and Ayra simply had to admire the woman's level of innovation. Eleanor’s plans for the escape were detailed and intricate in their design. She had secured a safehouse - somewhere Ayra could be hidden for a while once she made her escape. It was an ostentatious villa in the middle of the city, but Eleanor and Ayra both agreed that it was best to hide right beneath their noses until Ayra could leave the city entirely. The city’s roads were mapped, the hidden back alleys and lesser-known paths highlighted on a series of papers Eleanor had sent. Ayra had made sure to burn them all - they were just there

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